Gate Keeper

Knight in Shining Armor (KiSA)

What kind of character are you thinking about and does anyone have a free character to pair with?

@HylianRose

@NarayanK
My knight is still hanging about

Knight in Shining Armor (KiSA)

I hope that this rp never runs out of awkward conversations... xD

Pawns of the Inquisition

Alarand

The Reaver

---

Alarand wordlessly nodded at her comment, grimacing as he carefully pulled the edges of his dripping pantlegs from his boots. It was strange, how waterlogged clothing and boots were harder to get off than dry. He carefully stepped towards the entrance before dumping the water out of them, enough to fill a canteen. He moved a larger piece of wood over and sat on it near the fire after hanging his boots. There was a hypnotic feel to staring into fire, it was strangely comforting- it wasn't that it disapeared as much as it was sated by the cavorting flames. His lips parted when she dropped the blanket over his shoulders, but he decided against offering comment. Alarand idly picked off pieces of bark from the wood he was sitting on, toss it into the coals and watching them consume it.

There was more than a little disapointment went she slid a flat piece of stone over the fire, hiding the ripple of heat around the coals, and disguising their golden glow. The crackling sound of cooking meat bringing him out of his reverie. Alarand continued to watch it for a moment after she asked though, trying to organize his thoughts. Careful. It wasn't long before he stood and slowly spread the blanket near the other drying articles, as it was a bit damp from contact with his clothing. "Before I tell you," Alarand paused, rethinking what he was going to say. "You have to know that it will be dangerous to take me there..." he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "...and I can't let you leave until we finish what we came here to do." Alarand quickly raised his hands defensively before she could react. "It isn't that I don't find you trustworthy, but I can't tell you details otherwise."

Asha’ren

The Guide

---

looked at him closely. "That's quite the demand." She considered his words for a few minutes as she turned the meat, making sure it didn't burn. "To be fair, you don't know that I am trustworthy." Asha's eyes glittered with a bit of mirth as she fetched two smaller pieces of slate, washed clean by the rain from just inside the cave's entrance. Though her motions were calm, her mind was racing. She'd been looking for a way to get out of this constant cycle of life she'd found herself stuck in. She never made enough coin to leave the Coast, only enough to keep her in drink and food and when she was lucky, in dry clothes. Asha'ren passed Alarand a makeshift plate with half the rabbit on it. "You said I'd be compensated by your 'friends'. Compensated how?"

He watched quietly as she stood and retrieved some flat stone from the entrance for use as plates. It was clear she had been living here for some time, though he was certainly no expert in tracking or investigation. Alarand already knew that he wasn’t going to give her any true detail unless she agreed to follow through to the end. “I suppose that depends on what you want. If it’s money, I can promise ten crowns- though you will have to accompany me to the nearest settlement before I can pay.” Alarand appraised her thoughtfully for a moment before resuming, “Or, if you would like, you can accompany me on my return journey to S- the Dales.” He grimaced at the slip of tongue. Mentioning Skyhold would be a dead give away. “I am not sure if my companions will join me, but unless an emergency shows up, I intend on heading that direction. We would be safe enough, and you would be free to leave at any point on the way.” Alarand studied her face, pondering a third option.

The Inquisition was still growing, but he was certainly no recruiter. On the other hand of course, if they had been willing to work with a mess such as himself, surely an elf-blooded would be welcome. He would have to see what the others thought of the idea before speaking on it though.

Asha'ren looked at him intently. "I'll take you where you need to go on two conditions. One, that you explain why all this needed to be shrouded in secrecy with a veneer of abduction, and two, that you help me get set up in the Dales. I don't expect you to build me a house with your bare hands, but maybe introduce me to a few people? If I spend one more season out here on this godsforsaken Coast with nobody for company I'll go mad. Is that a deal you can make?" Asha asked, the intimacy that their current situation provided caused her to be brutally honest without fear of judgment. After all, how much judgment could a soaked elf really give?

Mad? He raised his eyebrows slightly. I wonder how many people truly know the feeling. “Oh, I can introduce you to people.” A slow smile tugged at his lips at the private jest. “If we make it out of this in one piece, you’ll have plenty of time on the road to extort me.” People are social creatures, I am not. To him, the idea of being alone for weeks at a time might be refreshing... though the images of being gagged, bound, and blindfolded suddenly flashing through his skull were a fairly good argument to the contrary. “I suppose now that you are leaving, the forest is open for invasion again?” He glanced around in mock approval. “It’s a shame really, considering how much effort you put into decorating.”

Alarand reached into his pocket and pulled out a wet piece of parchment, unfolding it. “Well, glad to know that they saved on the ink.” He grimaced and tossed the mess of dripping ink at the edge of the fire, where it hissed and shrank, bubbling. “In short, I need you to take me to a clearing somewhere in this valley, there should be a fairly large entrance to the largest part of the cave system near there- an obvious one. He raked his brain for the other directions, trying to remember what had been written. “A double set of twin peaks can be seen west of it, and most of the trees around it should be oak.” In all honesty, it wasn’t an excellent description, but it had seemed enough, when he had been hiking towards the visible peaks from Amaranthine, along the designated trail.

The elf sighed, shaking his head. “The cave is an entrance to a Red Lyrium mine, and we have been sent to investigate.” He separated a piece of rabbit meat and bit into it, chewing. “And, now that I told you, I can’t let you just walk away, in case we find a surprise party waiting for us when we head in.” He began separating other edible pieces away from the rest, making a pile. “We don’t plan on announcing ourselves, exactly.” Alarand gave a meaningful glance in her direction before starting in on his meal.

Pawns of the Inquisition

Whew, makes me glad I didnt go for my original character concept, a RECOVERING lyrium addict... that would have been awkward.@vFear

Knight in Shining Armor (KiSA)

Conrad Friedhelm

With Shaw; @WhiteStar19

---

Speak of the devil. Conrad turned, eyeing his knight up and down. “It’s good to see you’re armed, it isn’t nice to humiliate the new guys barehanded on their second day.” His lips twitched into a grin, glancing past his Knight at his latest victim. “Girl’s tend to travel in packs right? Maybe if you got with her friends, she would change her mind about you.” Probably shouldn’t be encouraging him, but on the same note, Shaw wasn’t that dangerous. His campus-wide game would be ruined if he went steady.

Of course, plenty of poor first year knights would fall defending their ladies ‘honor’ before the new group got used to Shaw. It was a vicious cycle. ”I don’t suppose you have seen Ivan or Cain about?” He glanced over the field of people again. “I suppose we could go hunting for some feminine company…” A chagrined look crossed his face, as Conrad suddenly remembered last semester, “…though you took both of them last time.” It was a good memory, in retrospect.

Knight in Shining Armor (KiSA)

Is there going to be food at this optional fireside? Feels a bit important. >_> You know, teenage guy priorities.@HylianRose

Pawns of the Inquisition

Alarand

The Reaver

---

Orders were orders, but a good part of Alarand felt that this particular mission had been given to him as a personal test… a test to see at which precise point on the journey he would start madly attacking every tree along the path. If it wasn’t for the chill of the water invading his clothing, utterly soaking his loose clothing. He had removed his gauntlets in an effort to protect them from the water, but he had less than optimistic hopes that the contents of his pack were still dry, after a few hours in the rain. If there was one thing to be happy about, it was that he no longer felt cold, just numb. To make things worse, the darkening sky only seemed to grow darker. Given a few hours, and even his elven eyes would have a hard time picking out a path in the dark.

In a way, he could consider it fortunate that he hadn’t been given a travel partner- it made it easier to control the ever biting anger. He could feel it, pushing at the borders of his mind, almost a separate being. The rage could be seductive at times, but he knew better than to let it out. Three methods. Fivra had made him promise to practice at least three different strategies when he was irritated in the field. Listing would be a good start. Cold. Cold took the edge of the anger away, and replaced it with being miserable. Wet too. In the end, they were good. Blood is warmer. He winced at the thought, forcing it away. Fire is warmer. Alarand opened his mouth and forced a deep breath, and then a second. In a way, this could be considered nice. The water was clean, and forests were always more beautiful after a storm. Just a week ago, he had been suffering from thirst. In a way, he really had nothing to complain about.

It was a show of willpower for the elf to straighten his posture, push his breathing down, and pace forward into the rain, trying to force positive thoughts through his mind. Alarand was close to the clearing, at least, I think so. He had been lost for close to two hours. In a fit of rage, he had abandoned the specific trail in favor of a less muddy path. It was against his better judgement, but in this rain, most of what he did was. I thought I had gotten myself under control… and now this. The sooner he got to the cave, the better. At the very least there would be bodies fire to warm himself up. He was tired, that’s all.

“Who are you?” The inquiry startled him, and the elf barely stopped himself from jerking around. It would have been ironic if that particular ‘survival instinct’ had cost him his life. Alarand hesitated, and then stepped a little further from the voice, raising his hands slightly above waist level, palms out. “Alarand, the cold and miserable.” He slowly turned to face her, finding a rather tall female elf. She was a few inches taller than he was, with cascading red hair. He had been ambushed by much uglier people. “I suppose you usually ask for a name before shooting someone?” The idle banter was more for himself, than for her. I wonder if I’ve ever been shot… or if the archer survived. He was shivering, and probably wouldn’t have much luck trying to dodge a point blank arrow after spending a couple of hours in freezing rain. I should strike first. ask directions. “I am just a tad lost, sorry if I am invading your…” His eyes flicked sideways, glancing at their surroundings “… trees…”

Pawns of the Inquisition

Alarand

Name: Alarand
Age: 26

Gender: Male

Race: Elf

Nationality: Orlesian

Group Affiliation: Inquisition

Occupation: Mercenary
Specialization: Reaver
Appearance:

Picture:

Equipment/Weapons:

Armor/Clothing

Silk Robes (as pictured)
Scaled Articulated Gauntlets
Steel Capped Leather Boots

Weapons

A kreigmesser is a single edged sword that may be wielded with two hands or one as the user prefers, possessing both crossguard and nail.

Kreigmesser

Alarand also tends to keep one or two daggers on his person, in the case that he loses his blade in the midst of combat.

Canvas Pack

Blanket, Flint & Steel, Small bundle of cord, small pot filled with regular travel rations

Bio:

Long Text

Alarand was born as the lowest of low in the Alienage of Val Royeaux in 9:14 Dragon, late winter. From there, his life began- as hellish as it might be. If the citizens of Orlesias had few rights under nobility, elves had none. Much of his life was spent just attempting to live. His mother never spoke of his father, Alarand never asked. He wasn’t the only child running around the city that didn’t know their parentage, and the topic only seemed to bring about bad memories for his mother when it did come about. His life had been a relatively simple one up until then. The routine every day was dull; move around the city at first light, and try to secure a bit of food from the scarce number of bakers and butchers that had pity enough for the elves to throw out their week-old bread and scraps. Dodge city guards, nobles, and avoid any citizenry in a particularly nasty mood.

He spent his childhood in that manner, turning to minor thievery in his teen years- nothing big, just the stray bit of food or coin. Anything more would have been obvious anyway. As he grew older, his interests turned towards manual labor, which was always in short supply. He worked for years, until in 9:37 Dragon Alarand disappeared from the streets. It was little remarked upon, as such things happened to elves often enough.

The young elf was turned to a tool for The Grand Game, captured for a group of radical supporters of Gaspard de Chalons. The undercurrents of the game had long been building towards war, and they wanted to be sure that their interests were secured. In this case, that the elves remained lower class, to protect the underground trades. It was a gap of just a few months before he was forced through the Reaver ritual, with the intention of turning the elf into a weapon of terror for the war. The memories of it were traumatic to the extreme, and Alarand could never recall the full process- other than the feeling of drowning as blood was poured down his unwilling throat, the young elf strapped to a table and unable to do more than stare in terror as he was forced to swallow it. Within him, something awoke and grew, at first uncontrollable with rage and bloodlust. The lucid memories of the time were always in a dark room, a heavy door sealing one side, and a pile of straw in the corner, always with the stench of blood and decay overlaying the memory, the scant others of being strapped down, eyes covered and ears muffled- only the sound of wagon wheels audible. Though he wasn’t aware, Alarand became a valued tool and one of the symbols for anti-elf propaganda.

When Alarand next was aware, he lay among piles of corpses in what he now knows as Halamshiral. Disoriented, lost, and still highly volatile, he was lucky to be picked up on the Imperial Highway by members of the forming Inquisition. Recognizing his symptoms, Alarand was able to receive help regaining himself, in exchange for joining the inquisition. Ever since, he has loyally worked for the Inquisition of his own free will, loyal- and still on a personal search to regain who he once was… or better.

Knight in Shining Armor (KiSA)

Conrad Friedhelm

---

Conrad lovingly slid his worn copy of Plutarch’s Selected Lives and Essays onto one of two filled bookshelves in his dorm bedroom. On either side of it sat an analysis on Sun Tzu’s Art of War and Daring Greatly. His books were likely his most well cared for possessions on campus, and he had read through all of them several times over, making notes in the margins and carefully underlining significant quotes. The bookshelves sat side by side in the corner of his room, lamp and a comfortable armchair-ottoman set. He truly didn’t see a need for much else for entertainment. Besides the corner devoted to reading, his room was fairly sparse. No artwork on the walls, a single rug, and the only thing residing on his nightstand was a battery powered alarm clock, classically designed. Nothing had changed much since freshman year, other than the second bookshelf. Pitiful to some, easy to clean as far as he was concerned. His desk a room over was another story.

He picked up a box piled with torn notebooks, index cards, pens, pencils, and random mathematical drawing instruments and left his room, balancing it on his hip for just a moment to cut the lights and close the door with a precise click. Everyone else was likely out in the commons, fulfilling odd social rituals.

Going to have to go out eventually. He sighed internally, but dropped off the box on his desk before forcing himself out of the dorm. Maybe Ivan or Cain are about, they are always keen to talk. He grimaced at the thought of having to possibly deal with Cedric though. He didn’t seem to know when to back off, or rather did- but relished pushing people a bit further than comfortable. Probably would get on well with Shaw, if the two sat down and agreed not to tread on the others toes.

Out on the lawn, the standard chaos from year to year was well under way. The atmosphere was deceptive when compared to what would dwell in just a few weeks. The first years were rushing about, figuring out their schedules, some talking to each other, some trying to engage in the rougher games the sophomores held, and others awkwardly standing around- the ones who didn’t know anyone yet. He grinned at a young knight that was sprawled on a storm drain grate, shouting across the way. It was a shame his noble stepped in to offer a hand, that pink Frisbee could have been the start of a lovely duel. Conrad laughed under his breath and moved on, keeping an eye out for his own knight. Likely near some younger ladies, if he had to guess. Either that or tearing apart another poor knight in a duel.

Knight in Shining Armor (KiSA)

@SouffleGirl123
Can't see it, I used the RAW to pull up the link, but google forbids me access to the image itself :S